Some Things Just Aren't Worth Denying
by slytherin-principessa
Summary: Some things just aren't worth denying. In other cases, certain things are worth denying, but the question is whether one can deny them or not... DracoxOC
1. Chapter 1

The girls's dormitories were always one of the best things in the Slytherin House. Of course noone knew of this, but the girls, so not many could enjoy this well-hidden oasis of comfort unlike the nomadic Common Room (the insufferable desert in our case, which was used by everyone and enjoyed by none).

Unlike the common room, the girls' area was cosy, even comfortable, well, depends on naturally what's comfort for someone. One could easily feel intimidated by the view (or even the facts- nobody in their right mind would want to be close to where Pansy Parkinson slept). The stone walls still reminded the viewer of medieval prisons (yes, Pansy would deserve that), but the beds were luxurious with the silver linen on them (now that's something she wouldn't deserve, but probably possesses at home, too) and the dark green baldachins, that locked out noises. They were soft and thick, and besides locking out noises, they also locked out light and ensured privacy, so the two girls sitting on the bed didn't have to care about lowering their voices.

One of them was tall and strong-built, if we were nasty, we would describe her as 'bulky', but as we are obviously far from that, so it is to be noted only that she wasn't exactly a veela. Or half-veela. Or even quarter-veela. Despite her kind eyes, her features made her seem to be an always angry and morose person. She was hiding her face in her hands and shaking her head slowly. The short, blonde-haired girl sitting vis-a-vis to her was looking at her in utter disbelief.

'That totally grosses me out' she said, leaning toward her friend, putting a stubborn mop of dark blonde hair behind her ear.'Are you sure that..you know…?'

The other girl nodded.

'Uh.' Said the blonde and leaned on her silk pillow. 'Love shall be a matter of decision, not a matter of heart, Millicent..at least ...it should contain some thinking too, not only hormones.' she stated promptly.

'I know' the girl, addressed as Millicent said hopelessly. 'It came out of nowhere… and it's not like I WANT to like him, it's like I HAPPEN to like him, you know.' She nearly shouted.

'Oh yes, I'm rather sure that you wouldn't have chosen him by your own free will.' She mused.

The lazy rays of the autumn sun couldn't get through the thick layers of the dark green baldachin. The girls were alone in the room, given the fact that it was the day of the year's very first Quidditch game, Slytherin against Hufflepuff. The match was due in a few hours after breakfast, which has just started.

'Don't be so evil, Flora!.' Millicent pleaded. 'You haven't been here for long, so you can't know. His love would make any girl happy.'

The blonde shrugged lazily and picked up a fancy looking silver mirror from the blanket to check her messy hair. Making an attempt to arrange it somehow (which was a failed mission), she stated:

'I may haven't been here for too long, but I'm not an idiot. Saying this is cruel, but you liking him is far from being the centre of his affections, really' she lowered the mirror and looked at her friend sympathetically.

'You're not this cold, either, so don't put on an act for me. I've known you ever since you were 4, so change that attitude and help me.' Millicent demanded.

The blonde girl dropped the mirror onto her bed sheets and faced her friend with a half smile.

'That doesn't change the fact that he is far from being in love with you.'

'Why are you this unkind to me, Flora? I need support not criticism.' She said in a crying voice.

Her friend rubbed her forehead. Millicent was beginning to sound like Pansy (always nagging), as a result of sharing nearly every classes with the latter.

'I have told you a several times and I will repeat myself once again' Flora said in a bored tone. 'He is …not exactly the best choice. Fall in love but fall out of it quickly.'

'I simply can not do that.' Millicent declared firmly.

Flora shrugged again. Shrugging was one of her worst habits, which tended to drive the people that talked to her crazy. There's nothing wrong with shrugging. Except for when it gives you the impression that your mate is careless to your problems. Flora had easy answers for everything, and she gave them as it was impossible to do otherwise.

'We should try to get you to snap out of this, it's just totally gross and wrong and…'- her voice trailed off. Sometimes it's just better not to find, or not to say out the right word loudly.

'Hopeless.' Millicent finished. 'And the worst is I'm not like you are, I'm unseen, I'm unpopular even in Slytherin and I'll never be considered as 'cool' or anything else than the bully, fat, gross Millicent… of course he wouldn't look at me'.

Her friend arched her eyebrow. That was another one of her annoying habits. You can arch your eyebrow because you're surprised, when youre happy, when it's nothing more than, well, arching an eyebrow, but then there are just those situations, when someone arches it out of sheer annoyance., Well, that was Flora's way of arching her brows.

'Stop. Don't be dramatic. It has absolutely nothing to do with you or your looks or your position in Slytherin. You admitted that you like him' she paused. '_much_'. Now you have three options. 'You have to forget him...admire him from afar… or get him to like you. The last option morally, biologically and in every possible sense…is just disgusting.'

'However' she continued.' I'm your friend,so I advise you now to follow the admire-him-from-afar version. We can keep an eye on him and check if he really is unworthy of your love, of which I'm sure.'she grinned.

Millicent lightened up and gave her a hug.

'Do you think that we could… go and see the match? You know he'll be there, too...'

Flora sighed a fake sigh.

'You know well that I despise Pansy and she'll be present. But oh well, you know I wouldn't survive if I didn't see our _talented_' she emphasized the word 'team winning.'

'Come on, Flora' teased Millicent. 'We both know that you will say yes to going only to check out all those muscular boys.'

'I never said that wasn't my intention.' Flora answered, grinning. Some things are just not worth denying.

* * *

**AN:READ ONNNNn!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

As the sun was slowly setting down, the noise of the students died away, too. Another afternoon was sentenced to quietly turn into an evening, leaving only a few elder students sitting in smaller groups on the green grass of the lake's surroundings.

Frankly speaking, she hated sunshine, she was that type of person, who was able to sit at home in the dark room all day in summers, avoiding every possibility for her skin to get a little tan, but when the typical autumnal, lazy rays of light fell on the idillical blue water, she could put aside her hatred and enjoy the nice weather for a change. After all they had something to celebrate: Slytherin had won. _Of course._

Bending her head on her arms she smiled to herself as she felt the warmth of the sunshine warming up her otherwise cold hands. That wasn't the only reason for her smile.

Not surprisingly, her housemates were centered around a pale blonde boy, whose handsome features were visible even from that far. _Not that he could make her smile._ _Never. _He was gesturing vividly and explained something that only those heard, who were close to him. He was the ideal boy for females, who liked fair haired males. Tall and lean, his uniform obviously tailored personally for him, he radiated power and self-consciousness. The girls around him acted like moths close to light, drinking his every word eagerly, not realising that he would only cause them suffering and misery. But again, that's the nature of females. Always attracted to the wrong men.

Flora found the scenes very amusing, but was too lazy to get closer to hear what they were talking about. It always gave her a great chance of enjoyment, being a testimony of human stupidity. _No doubt, only someone stupid could like a toad like Malfoy._

'If looks could kill, he'd be dead.' noted Millicent, who was not far from her.

'It's nothing that grave, I just dislike him.' She explained with a small smile.

'He's not that bad, believe me.' Millicent added.

Flora shook her head in disbelied. Malfoy being decent? Impossible!

Without doubt, Slytherin was the strangest of all houses in Hogwarts.

'Y_ou follow the footsteps of your ancestors, …there's no other way but Slytherin for you, I'm afraid… your late grandmother and Salazar himself would roll in his grave if I put you, a perfect Slytherin material in Hufflepuff.'_

Well, yes... That's how that rowdy hat decided on her future. All her pitiful life, she was surrounded by the old wizard's portrait hanging in every posh room of their 'mansion' and here she was, sorted to Slytherin, which truly made her parents happy. The least thing she wanted to do, actually.

Running her eyes on the fellow Slytherins in her vicinity, sly, slier and incredibly sly faces she'd seen. Pansy Parkinson, her personal favourite. She didn't dislike Pansy for no reason, she did seek revenge for a _crime _commited by Parkinson a long time ago. Pansy was always close to Malfoy from what she saw. _They deserve each other_- she thought.

The others were quite indifferent, Crabbe and Goyle with a dumb look on their faces, Blaise Zabini, who was smiling in her direction, Malfoy, Nott…

Wait, what? She blinked.

Yes, Zabini was still looking at her. When she looked at him questioningly, in response he stood up and made his way toward her. After a few steps (yes, they didn't sit too far from each other), he reached them and sat down casually.

'Hi' he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

'Er..hi.' Flora answered smiling back. Her own reaction surprised her a bit. She has never acted comfortable around boys. _Ever_. Everybody has been looking strangely at her since her arrival at the beginning of the school year, even the Slytherins, and since Blaise never have done so, she considered him as a nice person. Perhaps that's why she felt at ease around him, thus she dared to smile, too. He was obviously a skilled flirt, but it still surprised her, however that he would talk to her in front of everyone. Millicent and her weren't exactly the most popular girls at school.

'Bored by our quidditch tales?' he nodded towards Malfoy. _If only he knew._

'Not at all' lied she instead. 'You played really well' she didn't remember a single moment of the match, because Pansy next to her went into painfully long and cheesy details about her blooming friendship with Malfoy. Not that her personal affairs interested her that much, but her voice caused her a surprisingly acute headache.' Congrats on winning the match!' she added.

Blaise just smiled lightly.

'It's all thanks to Draco. Besides catching the snitch, he had a huge role in distracting little Amy Marshmallow.'

'Aw no.' Flora grinned. Even Malfoy couldn't be so bad. She thought it was fair play for once.

'Oh yes. Amy thought he was approaching her, so she forgot about looking for the Snitch, which happened to be right in front of her nose. You can't say we cheated.' He added defensively.' He is worse than you can imagine.' He added with a bitter smile.

'Are you a legilimens?' she laughed.

'No need, it was all written on your face' he smiled back genuinely.'Have you finished the Potions essay yet?'

'No, not yet. I got no clue about how to start it.' She confessed. The previous night, when Millicent insisted on preparing the essay on the Anteros Potion, she fell asleep on the introduction of Advanced Art of Potions.

'Well, if you need any help, you can always ask me.' He smiled at her for the last time as a girl's voice interrupted their conversation.

'Blaise, would you come here for a minute?' It was Daphne Greengrass, sounding slightly huffy.

'Coming.' He said reluctantly. 'See you later, Flora. Millicent.' He nodded at her direction and walked back to his girlfriend. They looked quite fine together, actually. Daphne was one of the less mean Slytherinas.

Flora looked at Millicent questioningly.

'May you should take him at his word. You know we both are terrific at Potions.' Millicent suggested. It was true. Flora kept praying each lesson that she'd survive it without blowing up her cauldron like Longbottom.

'Nonsense. Do you think he is any better than us?' Flora doubted. On the previous lesson Blaise was rewarded with a few 'nice' words from Snape, which was a great thing to achieve as a Slytherin.

'Nah. I'm sure he's not the private tutor type.' The brown girl grimaced. Suddenly her face lightened up. 'But you know, he is friends with Malfoy, who happens to be the second in class after Granger and I just heard Pansy saying Draco and him wrote the essay a week ago.'

Flora looked at Millicent, newly found respect shining in her eyes.

'Millicent, sometimes you scare me. We're gonna ask Blaise for help. After all he offered it so _kindly._' On that happy note she started searching for the last bar of Cadbury in her pocket, and a small, but victorious smile spread instantly on her face as she found it.


	3. Chapter 3

Flora was grumpy.

Before you all hurry to feel annoyed by her moodiness and put her in the category of 'really unsympathetic heroines', please try to understand her reasons for my sake!

For her defense, I must let you know, Dear Reader, that 27th September was really unlucky for her. Cliché as this may sound, it's still true. Each year she would have a whole series of annoying events happening to her, making her miserable, never mind how hard she tried to avoid it.

She didn't know the reason why she was _blessed_ with this misfortune, the only thing she was sure of that bad luck kept her in it's grasp on that day: there was no escape.

What kind of misfortune I'm telling you about? You have every right to ask that. As usual, I have to correct myself right now: what she was facing wasn't simple misfortune. It was a complete series of mini-disasters.

Needless to say, she was precatious. She set her alarm clock (well, she would have done that, but as she did not have an alarm clock, she asked Millicent to wake her) and prepared her shoes the previous day, so she would wake up and get ready in time (thus avoiding the opportunity to be fatally late from her first class).

Flora even got up exactly 30 minutes after somebody (probably Millicent?) shook her awake reminding her that Snape gave detention to whoever was late, be it a Slytherin or a Hufflepuff.

Jumping out of bed heroically, rushing to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, and having finished these in 6 mere minutes, we simply have to admit that she indeed had grown up to the task.

She put on her clothes quickly while guessing how much time was left remaining, and as she realised she had at least 3 minutes to arrive to the dungeons (her first class was Potions), she even had time to mutter things about how unfaithful friends she had for not intending to wait for her even a _moment_.

Our heroine stormed down the stairs, keeping her shoes, a bottle of ink, quills and parchments in her hands. Remembering that she hadn't put on her shoes, she was forced to stop in the middle of the Common Room to put at least one of her shoes on. Having succeeded in the mission, she was hopping out of the Common Room (on right feet) at an incredible speed, (which somehow she never seemed to be able to achieve on PE lessons), trying to put on the other part of the pair, when she crashed into someone.

Things were happening fast: feeling her nose clashing into something hard, losing balance, and dropping the things in her hands (including the ink bottle) accidentally. She closed her eyes, waiting for finding herself on the floor, but much to her surprise, a mysterious force pulled her back.

Realising that she was intact and still standing, Flora started rubbing her nose gently, murmuring words that only a sailor would dare to say out loud after some gin, she opened her eyes and looked up to identify the idiot that nearly caused her downfall.

27th September was really the worst day for her. A pair of unmistakable storm-grey eyes was glaring at her venomously. Out of all people, it had to be Malfoy, who nearly broke her nose!

'Er...I...' she started coyly. Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly the nicest person to meet in the morning, especially if you haven't fully regained your senses, nor combed your hair.

'Wonderful. Just wonderful.' Malfoy interrupted her. He sounded extremely pissed off. He didn't only sound pissed. He _was _pissed, it was easy to tell. No wonder: Flora managed to splash her favourite black ink right on him, including his sweater. There was some ink even on his face, which sight would have been pretty funny if he hadn't looked so furious.

'What exactly are you, Prince, a hippopotamus?' he snapped.

'What?! It's all your fault, look what you've done! I'll be late! 'Flora accused him (attacking is the best way of defence)

'What I've done?' he repeated in an annoyed tone, while stepping away from her. 'Would you rather prefer sitting in the middle of that?' asked he, pointing at the huge plash of ink ont he floor.

Flora lost her voice again. Had Malfoy just saved her?! She blinked. She blinked again. Did the world stop turning?

Clearly, she couldn't have been a very pretty sight, because as Malfoy looked her up and down, the annoyance on his face gave place to a taunting smile.

'Late?' he mused. 'It's only 6.30 am. Are you sure you can read the clock?'

_How hateful he is! _Flora frowned in thought but remained silent. _What was he talking about?_

'God, Prince, don't tell me you're not only clumsy but a dimwit as well.' In the meantime, he flicked his wand, and his clothes became immaculate again, though a hint of black ink still remained on his chin, which he didn't seem to notice. 'I thought Crabbe and Goyle were the stupidest in the history of Hogwarts, but you overdo even them. Well, nevermind. Just get out of my sight.' He added irritably, turned his back on her and walking away. Visibly, he tried to avoid spending any more time with her.

Flora was still confused. 6.30 am?! But she was running late!...

Seems like Malfoy forgot something, because after taking a few steps, he stopped and turned back.

'Don't forget to clean up' he snapped at her. 'Do you know that your socks don't match?' he added after a small pause, looking at her legs, with a small grin. Flora's eyes widened and she felt her cheeks flushing. Not daring to look up and face him, she rather stared at her feet and had to realise that the blonde was right: not only wasn't she wearing one of her shoes, her socks weren't a pair, either. One was pink, while the other was lime green with huge strawberries on it.

_Couldn't be better_ she thought awkwardly.

By the time Flora finally gathered the courage to look up, Malfoy was long gone. _Ointment in the fly._


	4. Chapter 4

Rummaging through the content of her left pocket, she finally found it. She decided she wouldn't wait any more with reading it.

Flora glanced around the classroom and found that everyone was looking at Snape, who was in the middle of a presumably very boring and long tirade judging by his expressions.

Pulling out the piece of parchment carefully, she enfolded it expertly. She had gotten loads of those at home, before coming to Hogwarts. She'd always wait for them anxiously as these enabled her to keep in touch with the only family member that seemed to care for her.

The moment she saw the letter neatly iterated into four on her pillow after the humiliating encounter with Malfoy, she immediately knew who the sender was.

'_To Ms. F. P.'_

The well-known, elegant black letters invoked pleasant memories, that made a bleak smile appear on her lips.

She glanced toward Snape, just for making sure that he was still preoccupied with scolding.

He was still in the front, holding the essays that were due to the previous lesson (and which she successfully copied from Malfoy with Blaise's help), glaring at Potter, as usual.

Returning to the message, the black letters formed words that made her smile even wider, though she tried to keep her reactions under control:

_Dearest Cousin,_

_Did you get my surprise? Zonko's Magical Morning Charm! Fun, right?Hope it helped you to get up in time! As it's 27th today, knowing you, I thought if it's set to 6, you'd surely wake up by 9. Managed to get to class in time?  
__How do you like Hogwarts? Greet Professor Snape in my name!_

_Love,_

_Darren_

Magical Morning Charm? She grinned. So it was him, who caused her that embarassing meeting on the corridor! Instead of feeling angry, she felt surprisingly happy.

Darren…she smiled. She adored every tiny thing about him. She'd probably forgive anything if the perpetrator was him. In a fraction of a second, memories came back rushing: Florean Fortescue's chocolate ice-cream speciality, the taste of happiness she'd always felt around him, and a hint of regret and jealousy, too: her cousin had a girlfriend. Polly Parkinson.

He was like an elder brother to her, always ready to protect Flora. Seeing him with Parkinson's elder sister (who was even more imbecile than Pansy) boiled the blood in her veins.

Thinking about a hex that would cause the elder Parkinson to lose her long, jet black hair (it somehow reminded her of hags in Muggle story-books), she suddenly realised something wasn't right. Other than Darren's taste, of course.

Looking up from the letter, she was hit by the realization that Millicent had vanished from her right and mysteriously, Vincent Crabbe was taking her place. She frowned and looked at Snape.

His face was green. The type of sickly green that you get to see, when you mix two spoonful mud, a frog's eye with a pinch of dry maybeetle and swallow it. Guaranteed success. Loving mothers rush to put the kid to bed, who gets rid of school and annoying classmates for at most, three days. At least her mother did.

However, she doubted that Snape would have used the well-known recipe just to get rid of his commitments. He actually liked teaching. Well, tormenting.

He loved even more tormenting Potter, who must have talked back to Snape, for the professor became so angry.

She turned her attention back to Crabbe.

'Hi!' he said. _Crabbe can actually talk?_

Disclosing the not-so-hidden-and-mysterious secret, Crabbe looked like as if he had had a troll's brain in a human's body. In fact, he looked a bit like a troll, too. Towering above her with inches, he would have been intimidating, if he hadn't had an embarassed expression on his face. Embarassed expressions didn't blend well with Crabbe's face. They made him seem even obtuser.

'Hi. Er…' she'd always got a bit uncomfortable around boys, even if the boy was as repulsive as Crabbe.'why are you here?' she managed to finish the sentence.

'You didn't pay attention?' Crabbe asked slowly.

Flora rolled her eyes. Crabbe was good at sensing the subtance of things.

'I quite obviously did not.' she said. 'Well?' she added.

'Snape gave me a T for the last essay. As you got an E, from now, you'll help me catch up.' He summed it up obediently and calmly, as if it was the most natural thing on planet Earth to be seated next to her.

Flora was surprised. No, surprise isn't the right word to express her feelings. She was nervous. _Why did she have to copy Malfoy's essay?_ She'd have been fine with a P or a D without Crabbe. If she had had to choose between getting a T and having Crabbe as Potions partner, there's no doubt she would have chosen the T.

_She hated 27th September._

'Vincent. I may be even worse than you in Potions.' She explained slowly and carefully so that even Crabbe could understand. 'I guess I can't help you.' She confessed, fidgeting on her chair anxiously.

The boy was quite calm.

'I know. He knows.' He said.

_'What?'_ Crabbe was getting on her nerves.

'Draco, of course.' He replied.

'He knows what?' she snapped at him.

'That you copied his essay.' He gestured toward Malfoy, who was sitting in the vicinity of them, paired up with a vexed Potter. Despite his well-knownly loathed tablemate, when Malfoy realised that they were looking at his direction, he cocked an eyebrow and flashed a smirk at them.

'Is he um…angry?' she turned away, not wanting to see him. Getting on Malfoy's worse side wasn't her exact aim to reach in life.

'Probably not.' He shrugged. 'Though…'he continued hesitantly. 'I remember he was mentioning about compensating losses.'

Flora's eyes widened. _Losses?_ What did it matter to Malfoy that she got an E instead of a T? She even left out a few parts and made some intentional mistakes, so Snape wouldn't realise she was cheating. With all the mistakes added, it was her own piece of work!

Malfoy couldn't complain.

What could he mean by _'compensating'_? she wondered.

As she didn't have the slightest urge to continue communicating with Crabbe, she pretended to pay attention to Snape. Actually, she did pay attention to him.

The lesson, much to her surprise was enjoyable. Snape explained everything fairly well (foundations of sleeping potions), at least she understood most of the things he talked about.

Potions were interesting, but as she didn't know anything about it, she dreaded the subject. It was her, who needed help, not Crabbe. _Well, she needed it more than Crabbe_, but Millicent proved to be just as weak in Potions as she was, leaving her no hope.

From all the class, only Malfoy and Granger managed to prepare acceptable philters, but she obviously couldn't ask any of them to help her. Granger was in Gryffindor. And Malfoy was… Malfoy. He didn't even help his friends: Crabbe was staring emotionlessly toward the blackboard, not showing any sign of enjoyment or comprehension.

Moreover, she was _far_ from being called his friend.

Their encounters weren't exactly friendly, and the copying issue surely made him furious.

Normally, she wasn't afraid of using underhand methods to reach her aim, but with Malfoy knowing about being at the receiving end (more like the passive, used end), Flora was nervous.

In the meantime, she realised that the lesson successfully passed. She felt very relieved. Not having to make an attempt at actually brewing something meant avoiding the humiliation of blowing up a cauldron. No matter how hard she tried, _she still remembered the previous lesson_.

Standing up and gathering her things in a hurry (the dungeons were depressive even for Slytherins), her thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

'You know,' Crabbe started hesitantly, looking at her with a touched empression on his face. It was quite funny, actually. 'You are the first, who called me by my first name here.'

She was dumbfounded.

'Er…really?' she asked.

'Yeah.' He nodded, as he stood up. 'I suppose I gotta go.' He said, somewhat disappointedly as he searched the classroom for a certain blonde, who was nowhere to be seen. 'Don't fret. Draco is actually a nice person.' He paused. 'See you later… Flora.' He said awkwardly and headed out of the classroom.

She had to put her hands in front of her mouth to prevent feverish giggling burst out of her.

She didn't know what was funnier: being on first name basis with Crabbe or the idea of Malfoy as a nice person.

Only one thing was sure: 27th Septembers were always catastrophic: bad luck was glued to her. First Malfoy, then Crabbe and the news about the essay.

_'Might this year it'll stop here?' _Flora hoped.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5.

The Great Hall was full of students, all tucking in their dinner. That was the only moment, when the whole student body of Hogwarts was in perfect harmony, there was no sign of belligerency.

The first years weren't in danger, even the Slytherins seemed to be in a genial mood.

Pansy Parkinson was chatting vividly with her friend, Daphne. Flora could hear that they were talking about her parents' dinner party, where her sister, Polly introduced her _gorgeous _and_ wealthy _boyfriend.

_That would be Darren._

'Pansy is a _cow_.' She thought angrily. It took her only one second to realise that she actually said the words out loud.

Luckily (?) Parkinson didn't hear it, cause she changed topic and started one of her endless hymns about Malfoy ('_Did you see how well that green tie goes with his grey eyes?_').

Blaise, on the other hand, was sitting in front of her, on the other side of the table, and smiled at her, signing that he had heard her comment.

Flora turned away her head huffily. She wouldn't forget him that he told Malfoy about the essay.

'_Mood is directly proportional with proper nutrition.' /L. Licinnius Lucullus/_

If we accept this theorem as true, it's crystal clear why Flora wasn't cheerful.

She had had a long day, that included humiliating herself in front of Malfoy, who was most likely going to torture her to death for violating his copyright (not literally), interacting with Crabbe (yes, Crabbe could talk indeed) and there she was, so close to bed and to the end of the day, yet she still had to listen to Pansy.

As if these all weren't enough, the dinner was fish.

You would think that at Hogwarts there were at least three different courses, that satisfied everyone's taste. Well, it was not like that. At least not on the 27th September.

There's nothing wrong with fish, if one likes it, but for Flora, fish meant an empty stomach. She really could not stand fish, so the dinner that consisted only of fish not only left her with an empty stomach, but disgusted her as well. She _hated that smell._

Dejectedly she got herself a glass of apple juice and a fair amount of chocolate biscuits.

Millicent was taking incredibly long to finish her dinner. As Flora was edgy even by the thought of _talking or thinking_ about her day once again, she rather took small sips of the apple juice and fixed her eyes on the ceiling while waiting for her friend.

It still astonished her that it looked _so real_. In the corner of the silky, dark blue sheet of the evening sky sat the crescent of the Moon shining silvery, like a rather small pillow. There weren't any stars up yet, but she could make out their contours.

'Flora?' Millicent called her name.

'Yeah?' she governed her attention back to the browned-haired girl.

'When will we do something about you know…me and…?' she blushed. Flora sighed tiredly.

'I don't think that the Great Hall is the most adequate place for talking about _this_.' She emphasised the last word.

'But…' Millicent sounded a bit disappointed.

'Anyone could hear. Look,' she reached for her friendQs hand. 'I promise I'll help you, but not now and not here. Okay?' she knew she was nasty, but her day was equal to complete disaster without chasing Millicent's crush. Thinking about that male would have just made it even more horrible.

'I still can't understand why him. I mean, honestly, even Potter is a lot more handsome than him.' She stated in annoyed voice and took another sip of her juice.

Flora suddenly felt something cold rushing through her body. It was like standing under ice cold shower for a long second.

It didn't take her long at all to realise what caused the bizarre impression.

Peeves had floated through her and stopped right over the Slytherin table, looking straight at her evilly.

'What do we have here, the flower of Slytherin fancying our little hero?' he asked mockingly.

'No, it's not like that at all!' Flora tried to protest. Peeves obviously had heard only the second part of her sentence, but even if he had heard everything, his intention was to create trouble. Peeves was trouble itself.

The poltergeist smirked nastily in return.

'You can't possibly think that I won't help you and Harry to get together.' He said demurely. Flora had evil forebodings...

'Peeves! Do NOT dare to…' her voice trailed off as the ghost started chanting in an unnerving, fake sweet, singsong voice while floating away, in the direction of the other tables:

'_Flor-ri loves snot-ty Pot-ty!'_He was getting louder and louder, repeating it many times cheerfully.

Flora buried her flaming face into her hands, hearing the others giggle. Not looking up, she still could make out Parkinson's hateful laughter.

Fine. That was exactly what he needed. All the Great Hall obtained knowledge of her non-existent crush on Potter. They would tease her _forever_.

'Aww, Flora!' Millicent rushed to sit next to her from the other side of the table. 'I'm really so sorry, it's all my fault!' she apologised nervously.

'itsokay.' Flora mumbled in a low voice listlessly through her fingers. 'Bloody Peeves…if he wasn't dead already, I'd kill him right now' she swore. 'Don't tell me Potter is here, too!' she told Millicent.

'Er…' Millicent paused.

Great. So Potter _was_ there at the Hall. Complete humiliation.

'Look at me, it's not so bad.' Her friend tried to comfort her.

'No. I don't wish to see anybody.' Flora declared firmly still hiding her face into her hands.

'Even me? Flora, I've already said I'm sorry. Nobody will take Peeves seriously.' Millicent tried to convince her.

'Yeah…sure.' She said slightly accusingly. After all it was Millicent's fault. '_Millicent and her stupid love life'_ she sniffed.

'With my luck by the end of the seventh year we'll be planning our merry little family with Harry. Lots of kids with spectacles and messy hair.' She said lightly, trying to take off the edge of her previous remark.

'Never thought you wanted kids with glasses.' a nasty voice spoke into her ear. It sent chills down her spine.

Once again on the same day, she didn't dare to look up.

Flora had no doubts: Malfoy was beside her.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

It would be _almost _futile to describe how she felt. First of all, because the multi-colour sentiments can never be described by unilateral, one-coloured words. As painting the perfect picture of her feelings is impossible, we shouldn't be satisfied with an imperfect.

Second, all the girls have felt this at least once in their life.

Disregarding these, we have to notice: Flora literally _felt_ his presence. He wasn't too close, nor he did anything indecent, but she was still aware of the fact that he was there, and that made her feel a bit insecure.

His voice was still in her ears, and the chills hadn't give their place to the feeling of calmness on her spine.

It is probably unnecessary to note that her heartbeat hastened it's pace to it's double in a second, too.

It is not pointless, however, to name the reason of her blush.

_'Quickening heartbeat is one thing and blushing…well, that's another.' /Alectrona/_

Of course, having a terrible day spiced with Peeves adds a hint of crimson to any white cheeks, but having Draco Malfoy hard by painted a violent shade of red on her otherwise pale features.

Realising that Malfoy was actually waiting for a comeback (Slytherins don't often admit defeat), she faltered out a weak

'Sod off, Malfoy' before ladelling out some strawberry ice-cream on her plate.

She was quite fond of ice-cream. Normally she wouldn't have put so much onto her plate, but this wasn't a normal situation.

It would be exaggeration to say that Flora was shy. She wasn't shy.  
To prove that, she glimpsed sideways, hoping that the boy wouldn't notice nor her sudden change of colour, nor the secret glance, she had to admit that even Pansy could be right about something: Malfoy was dashing.

He wasn't the spitting image of the Prince Charmings in Muggle storybooks, but he certainly was charismatic enough to be counted as dashing.

His blonde hair was windswept, but his attire was neat as usual, despite the Quidditch practice that he just had been through with the team of the House.  
It was typical that others looked worn-out after practices, while he was only even more appealing with his hair dishevelled.

The black uniform looked as if it had been designed especially for him. His venom green tie was loose, but it didn't give the impression that he was sloppy.

The contrast between his paleness and the darkness of his clothing made him seen even more aristocratic, and for a moment, she could see in front of the eyes of her imagination how he would look like as an adult, the lord of the family manor: stricter, meaner and even more handsome.

At the same time, The Perfect Perfect, Outstanding Student, the Living and Breathing Dream of many girls, Draco Malfoy himself was drinking pumpkin juice, like a normal human being that he wasn't. She couldn't help smiling and that unfortunately caught his attention.

Turning toward her, looking quite annoyed, his grey eyes stopped at the huge heap of ice-cream she had put on the tiny plate. Cocking a blonde eyebrow, he said:

'So _that's _why it was so hard to stop you from falling this morning.' And reached for the soup bowl.

'You're not funny, Malfoy.' She stated firmly and took a sip from her juice. Mysterious how apple juice and sweets can give one some courage!'Have you seen Millicent?' she added. Her friend had vanished before she could have realised it.

'Do you seriously think that I care about your opinion or where Bulstrode goes?' he asked coldly as he was slicing the meat on his plate neatly. Flora rolled her eyes. She disliked neat people. They were always accurate to unimaginable depths, even in the gravest situations. That type of cold blood was something that she had never possessed. She also disliked people, who were…

'_Mean_. How can you be so mean?' she asked faking incredulity. She knew well that Malfoy was able of worse than that_ innocent_ remark, but she couldn't stop provoking him. 'There _must be_ a way to get him lose his pompous image.' she thought.

He looked more irritated by the minute, which was really amusing, given that most of the time he was cold and remorseless. His pale features mirrored his emotions so well, that it was nearly astounding. One of the things that the Slytherins were known of was that they could hide their feelings better than anybody.

After all, in their case it was a matter of life or death. Literally.

Not even looking at her, he put down his knife and said

'I considered your_ poor_ abilities and decided that I'd be _nice_ to you.' He smirked at Crabbe, who was sitting on the other side of him, looking uncomfortable that his friend was about to speak of his plans regarding his new tablemate.

In a single day Flora heard that epithet said about Malfoy _twice_. There were many adjectives that fit Malfoy, but nice surely wasn't one of those.  
Cruel? Definitely. Cold? Absolutely. But nice? Hardly...

He was still talking, but in the meantime, her attention was concentrated on the elegant hand, that had held the tableware a moment ago. His white hands and long fingers could have fitted a pianist.' _He must play the piano.'_ She mused.

It was easy to imagine Malfoy in their luxurious home, practicing on a fancy piano. It was also easy to imagine him ripping the scores out of annoyance or tantrum. _More likely_- she smirked.

'Get it done by tomorrow, or you'll regret it. Much.' His voice interrupted her in thoughts as he finished talking and started eating. (That.disgusting.fish.)

'What?' she asked back perpexedly.

'How can you be so slow?' he shot back exasperatedly. _'Divination. Essay. For. Tomorrow._ 'he said slowly and stiltedly.

_Nice?_ She fumed as she dug her spoon into the melting ice-cream. He was as nice as an ice mountain. No, probably even ice-mountains were nicer than him (ice has to do a lot with ice-cream). He was as nice as Snape. Glad that she found the right simile, she looked around to see if she was still in the centre of attention, as the Girl-who-has-a-crush-on-Potter.

She glanced in the direction of Blaise, who looked somewhat worried. She wanted to hex him really badly (it was _his_ fault after all that Malfoy got to know everything!), when a genius idea struck her.

'Hey, Blaise!' she accosted the raven-haired boy immediately. He smiled relieved in response and was about to answer, when…

'Don't dare to ask Zabini to write it instead of you.' Malfoy turned back suddenly and smirked evilly at her. 'You know Prince, you are _so_ easy ...to read.' He finished the sentence suggestively and turned to Pansy, who was visibly ready to die for his attention.

Flora put down her spoon. He was so hateful. She didn't feel like eating anymore.

Besides, she had two Divination essays to write. Of one thing he was sure: Malfoy's grades would be falling _miserably_.  
There is _something_ sweet in everything bitter. She liked sweet things.

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**AN: Here is the 6th chapter! What do you guys think? R-E-V-I-E-W! I baked virtual muffinz. A muffin for each review!! lol, seriously! with nutella filling! So... plz?  
I read a clever AN some time ago, stating that reviews are an author's only payment. Well, that's true. I'm broke at the moment.  
If it's boring, tell me why! If it's fascinating, I'd be glad to know!:)  
Thanks for reading anyway!**


	7. Chapter 7 Annoying Idyll

Flora unconsciously flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned closer to her parchment.

Of course she would not have done it –the flipping-, if she had been 'conscious'. She was ardently and entirely against flipping hair as it always reminded her of Polly Parkinson and the likes of her.

She had to admit that their hair was liscious and shiny, very girly and appealing, _and all_, but quite understandably, that did not brighten her mood _at all_- especially when it came to her mind, who admired those scenes…

Because each scene of that kind has an admirer (or at least, a victim) and even though her hair was flipped absolutely unconsciously, Blaise Zabini was fitting into the role of the observer quietly and trickily.

Now that her hair was undeniably flipped and Blaise's eyes were undeniably fixed on her if she had not been very critical with herself and if she had paid attention to what was happening around her, she could not have denied that she did attract attention. At least some.

As the evenings got colder and colder, the monstrous marble fireplace was put to work. The flames were hungrily digesting the wood and the proof of their hunger enlightened wanly the whole Common Room.

As a result of that, Flora's had-just-been-flipped locks shone discretely in the dim light (not excessively, just discretely, which is a main difference), framing her oval face. Her long, dark eyelashes -probably inherited from her father- contrasted her pale complexion quite prettily.

If she had seen herself, she would have been really embarassed. After all (let me remind you all) those kind of scenes were mostly calculated with merciless punctuality and fitted the Parkinson girls a lot more than her (that's why it was unbelievably hard to understand their nearly failing marks from Arithmancy).

Apart from that, she really hated idylls and at that moment, her sight was as idyllic as a fairly attractive girl's presence can be when she is surrounded by all the tools of a true, idyllic scene.

The Common Room was far from empty: despite the late hour, many students were sitting around the spartan tables, chatting at a low voice. In fact, their presence just added to the uneasy atmosphere: they did not exactly look scary, but their grim look did not promise anything good. To cut it short, it was a typical evening for the Slytherin House.

It was chilly in the premises and Flora was –without reservation- grateful to Blaise, for saving a place for her near the fireplace. Even if she did not exactly enjoy his presence, he did not disturb her, either.

The small table made of cherry tree, on which her papers and books were scattered and the cosy armchairs coated with silky green velvet around it were usually occupied by Malfoy and his friends, but as the blond boy was nowhere to be seen, she gladly took the opportunity and sat closer to the fire.

It was not that she hated Malfoy –she did not consider just _any_ male worthy to be the object of her ambiguous feelings-, but he always managed to make her feel uncomfortable when he was around.

Not knowing how to continue her problematic essay for Divination –it was the second on the same topic…thanks to Draco Malfoy), out of annoyance she started to twirl her pen between her fingers.

Blaise's behaviour could have been the feather in any proud Slytherin's cap: he kept stealing glances at her over his thick Potions book stealthily.

Flora was nonchalant to both the passing time and his silent presence: her senses were focused on the compelling task in front of her –twirling the pen-, so when the boy finally addressed her, she could not help feeling surprised.

'How is the essay progressing, do you need any help?' he asked and looked as if he meant the offer genuinely.

'Thanks, but you offering your kind help has never brought me any good.' She refused with a small smile. Although not long ago she had been very angry with Blaise, she soon realised that he could prove to be really useful.

Blaise did not attract or interest her that much, for she was absolutely convinced that love and hate were somewhat similar. Of course, she did not consider Blaise as an appropriate candidate for either role, so she decided that a neutral, thus safe relationship would do her the best.

Zabini- the clueless other party- nodded and would have turned back to the arts of Potions if his attention was not grabbed quite violently by his quite pushy girlfriend, who popped down onto the arm of his chair and gave him a spectacularly possessive kiss.

Not that it was a particularly shameless or provocative kiss, but Flora could not hold back frowning her her disdainful frown while looking at Daphne Greengrass. Her long, brown hair was tied into a high ponytail and even though she was not friends with her, Flora could not deny that Daphne was beautiful.

She kept frowning unconsciously.

Of course she was…she went out with Blaise after all, who was the best looking in their year. Zabini would not have picked a girl less attractive than himself: Daphne's face and shape were flawless, and on top of those, her family was wealthy enough to keep his attention to herself. She obviously did not like sharing it, judging from the sharp look she gave Flora.

After the little intermission, she took the place near her boyfriend –who looked slightly annoyed- and glared at Flora while crossing her legs, which were –needless to say- created to be crossed dramatically.

_'Daphne is so very intelligent.'_ Flora thought in herself. _'She can do multiply things at the same time.'_

And as she valued_ intelligent_ people's presence, but not necessarily enjoyed, she stood up, gathered her belongings hurriedly and moved away to a farther table from the perfect couple and took the only seat that was left, near Crabbe.

Perfectness always annoyed her.

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AN: First of all, thank you for the kind reviews! I don't know if anybody actually looked forward to this update, but it's still out-finally, feel free to criticize!  
I do hope you enjoyed reading this scenario:). Til I update again...all the best, good reading-reviewing-writing for everybody!


	8. Madame Puddifoot's

**CHAPTER 8**

**Madame Puddifoot's**

_-in which the heroine wants a piece of chocolate cake really badly, but later realises that revenge is sweeter than the ominous cake-_

For awkwardness is highly demoralising but is still a lot better than cold –which could actually _kill_- Flora let herself to be dragged into the suspiciously pink café.

She had no date –apparently she had not been with Millicent if she had had a date- and even from outside it was visible that the place was filled with couples.

Appearing with Millicent, who was probably one of the most unpopular girls of the Slytherin House, at a place created for dates was not exactly the most pleasant thing.

To cut it short, she was sentenced to awkwardness.

It was her first time in Hogsmeade and she indeed was determined to enjoy every second of it. It was autumn in every sense of autumn: autumn-coloured dry leaves were chasing each other, the wind was quite hectic and made the students' cheek redden instantly like a sip from Madam Rosmerta's newest Peppermint Cocktail.

All in all, Flora did enjoy the trip. She had at least six small colourful bags clutched in her hand –she managed not to drop them even though Millicent was quite hasty- filled with magical sweets, quills and several different jars that contained what the Magical Beauty cosmetics -the shopkeeper swore they would do wonders literally to her appearance...literally.

Her good mood faded away quickly though, because as she entered the café, the first thing she noticed that the interior was pink. Pink in the most possible way.

The second thing was the smell of chocolate that immediately made her stomach growl in eagerness.

The third 'thing' was Malfoy, standing quite close to the door, pale as a statue. Strangely he seemed to be uneasy –that was very much unlike him- and kept looking dramatically at his obviously expensive watch while turning to Parkinson, who was standing behind him.

Flora wanted to avoid acknowledge their presence, so she hurried to the front, where she identified the source of the chocolate smell to be located at, dragging Millicent (for the sake of variety now _she_ was dragging _her_) to get farther away from the unpleasant couple. Truthfully it was not their unpleasantness that made her fasten her steps, but the fact that she still had not done his essay on the '77 Ways of Interpreting Daydreams' for Divination and Malfoy could get quite nasty about unfulfilled 'duties'.

Obviously, she was not fast enough, because the unmistakable haughty voice was calling her name.

She really did not want to turn back.

'Hey, Prince.' he repeated. His voice seemed to include a hint of impatience.

'_God, he will kill me_**.**' She thought and turned back reluctantly.

He was looking straight at her, an unusual expression plastered over his handsome features.

'Hi. Look, Malfoy, I really tried to finish that essay, but…honestly…77 ways?...'she rambled, not looking into his cold eyes- that always gave her the creeps-, when his voice cut her off.

'What are you talking about? I waited half an hour for you to show up!' he accused her lightly. 'Do you know how windy it is out there?' he continued.

She had to blink. Malfoy, waiting for her?

'Go, sit own, I'll make orders for us' he said simply. Flora blinked again and stared at him with widening eyes.

She felt stupid for not saying anything. She hated that she always felt stupid around Malfoy. It made her feel even stupider that the whole café was staring at them.

'Are you okay?' having a legal reason, this time she took the chance and really looked at him. Hair: not that neat. Clothes: neat. Overall impression: detached and good looking as usual, but less pale.

Malfoy looked back at her as if she was an idiot, but stepped closer. 'Of course I am, now that you're here.' he said.

'Nice try, Draco.' Pansy Parkinson stepped forward nervously, her hands on her hips. 'Like I'd ever believe you'd date _her_.' She looked Flora up and down and even pouted her glossy lips as if she had been somebody unbelievably uncool to date.

'What?' Flora said. Malfoy looked at her _suggestively_. Not suggestively, _authoritively_. Not authoritively but _pleadingly_? No, it had to be _ordering_. Flora shook her head. She started to doubt her own mental abilities.

'What?!' she said again. Malfoy now looked clearly angry.

'She's even retarded.' Pansy remarked and took Draco by the arm. Flora noticed she had long, red nails. Somehow she was never very fond of red nails.

'Can't you take a hint?' Malfoy took away his arm from Pansy coldly and took Flora's hand right after it.

'_What?_' her mind echoed. She was glad that she did not say it out loud. From the periferia of her vision she was sure she saw Millicent choking on her piece of cake-she obviously did not wait for her to catch up.

Malfoy's hand was cold, and having her own in his felt strange, but he did not seem to notice that. Instead he squeezed her hand lightly as he continued.

'Me and Prince…we're dating.' He stated coolly. _'Oh, marvelllous_.' Flora thought as she finally realised the meaning of the situation... Pansy's pouting… Malfoy's meaningful look.

Parkinson's ugly mouth dropped open by the declaration. Flora tried to drag her hand away as it really made her feel uncomfortable (hoaxing Pansy or not), but Malfoy's grip was stronger than she expected.

She did not need to look around to know that everyone was listening intently, even the vendor, who was positively beaming with joy that the café encountered such a scene.

'You don't.' Pansy stated.

'Of course we do. I asked her out and she came. That's called dating.' Malfoy explained with false calmness in his voice and looked down at Flora giving her a fake smile.

_'I hate Pansy. Why couldn't I only this once...?_' she thought and claimed a position in the conversation by saying 'Look, Pansy. I know it's hard to let go of Draco, since he is so _perfec_t,'-she felt her cruel side taking the lead. 'but you've got to deal with the situation: he chose me... over you'. She added in a lower voice.

Flora did feel nearly complete remorse over saying that-though only for the fragment of a second-, but mostly -evilly or not- she was beginning to enjoy the flow of the events.

She looked up at Malfoy for affirmation and saw that his grey eyes mirrored unvarnished amusement.

_'He only has fun when he tortures someone'_ Flora added mentally, but at the same time she couldn't stop grinning up at him, even if standing beside him was an unusual experience- unusual in a disturbing way.

He was too tall and moreover his hand was cold. That made her shudder and as an interesting counterpart of that making her cheeks gaining coloured. Flora's blush deepened when she realised their eyes were still locked. She saw he was smirking triumphantly.

Pansy in the meantime obviously did not take the news well as she flopped down onto a tawdry white chair and was still looking at Malfoy with incredulity in her big eyes.

'Draco, you can't. She doesn't deserve you.' She pleaded in a small voice.

Flora was feeling absolutely victorious. Even though at first she felt a very tiny sting of compassion, it fully changed into a flush of pure victory that immediately decreased when she heard Malfoy's answer.

'Sorry, but I can't agree with you, Pansy. In my opinion if she works really hard, she can deserve me.' He said while glancing down at Flora with a smirk.

'_Work hard?'_ Flora inwardly groaned. As if she wanted to work at all to be with a toad like Malfoy…

She came in only for warming up and grabbing a piece of chocolate cake and now she was to be working for deserving him? Flora surely did not like his remark, but at least it reminded her of the boy's true nature and his egoistic view of the world -which for Slytherins was not a problem, but was still repulsive.

Quickly thinking through the situation, she admitted that at the end, altogether, she was not at the losing side. She came in only for warming up and grabbing a piece of chocolate cake and now she was on the verge of defeating Pansy...instead of getting terrorized by him because of the undelivered essay.

It was also not every day that somebody like Malfoy, who was haughty and cruel, but still very good-looking stated that he wanted to date her- even if it was only for getting rid of Parkinson.

Apart from all that, she really did despise Pansy enough to take a little revenge on her and this gave her the perfect opportunity to do so.

Malfoy must have realised that even the highly demoralising awkwardness had its own limits because he bid goodbye to the heartbroken Pansy and orientated Flora towards the door.

'We better leave now Flora, I know a better place where we can be far from_ low_ companion' at that he looked at Pansy ' I know you'd wanted for ages to talk with me...in _private_.' he added the last words in a suggestively, making it very clear how he meant it.

Flora heard suppressed giggles. She felt the sudden urge to kick Malfoy in the shin or tear his shiny blonde hair out one by one. Instead of that she pressed her lips together, nodded and waved a vague bye in the direction of Millicent.

Before leaving she heard more giggles and a pig like- voice shrieking:

'I told you so, Pansy, Malfoys are always about having blonde heirs.'

The bell of the door rang softly. She was out of the café, alone with Malfoy. The wind was still cold. He was still holding her hand.

* * *

**AN: I am very sorry for the delay (I was having exams). From now on, I will update regularly.  
I hope you liked this installment, your opinion -in form of a review- would make me very happy. Special thanks to Draco's water melon LoL and everyone that has reviewed so far.  
My beta has not checked the chapter yet, so excuse me for occasional mistakes. Otherwise cheers to her, hope she's doing well. Rita, it's for you.**

**Love,**

**SP.**

**ps-I tried to correct a few mistakes, that's why the content may change a bit (however, never the substance) :). **


	9. Very Convincing

**AN:** Hey! Sorry to make you wait this long, Im really ashamed!!! This semester was pretty hard on me and I had loads of exams:(. I'm glad you all liked the last chapter! yay!

Special thanks to Katie, the lovely LittleMSS., bbGurl44, FlameJnR, Ms willow g., moogle in paradaisu, RockaBelle, and really, 2 everyone who was nice enough to review! You should all know that getting a review is fantastic- it shows that youre half as bad as you thought!:D  
Whats special for me in this chapter is that this is the first time I wrote a longer dialogue! I'm really curious what you think about it, how could I improve, and such... :)  
Sorry for ranting, I hope you will enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

_**-in which the heroine officially becomes a girlfriend and forces herself to have bath to escape**_-

The Three Broomsticks was just as crowded as Madame Puddifoot's, but Flora liked it a lot more.

Perhaps it was just the lack of colour pink and Pansy Parkinson, but the atmosphere made her feel relatively relaxed.

The wooden table was sticky from butterbeer marks so she tried to avoid putting her elbow onto it, but apart from that little inconvenience and Malfoy's presence, she was at ease.

He was sitting across the table, looking calm, secure and unnervingly handsome – as usual. His blonde hair was windswept thanks to the autumn weather and Flora couldn't help thinking that he really was very charming.

Malfoy's butterbeer was untouched. She did not feel like breaking the silence that had been surrounding them since they had entered the inn, so she glanced down at her shady-looking apple pie and finally decided to take the risk and taste it.

She was relieved to find out it was delicious – she had not expected it judging by the state of the tables.

'Now I know why you are fat.' Malfoy's nasty voice broke the hush and her recovering good mood at the same time.

He was obviously very pleased with the result of his words – Flora's face twisted -, for an evil smile sat on his lips.

'You're hateful.' Flora laid it down. She felt bad for how weak she sounded.

'That makes you want me.' He said confidently and leaned back in his chair.

Flora frowned. Malfoy was so painfully full of himself that it sickened her. She already regretted having thought of him as charming for a second.

Even though there were other students around them, who sometimes looked their way to feed their hunger for gossip, she decided attempting to flatten Malfoy's oversized ego was more important than the audience.

'It's Parkinson that wants you. I despise you and you know it.' She hissed.

His voice, his neatness and indifferentness annoyed her immensely and could not imagine spending any time with him willingly.

Malfoy chuckled lightheartedly. Flora got the feeling he did not take her too seriously.

'What a pity, Prince. It's a shame then that you're my official girlfriend from today.' He said calmly, as if it was the world's most natural thing to mark her as her girlfriend publicly without asking her before.

Hadn't she known his intentions were not driven by affection, she would have felt a bit excited hearing his determined words, after all the chance of going out with him was enough to make any Hogwarts alumna squeal with joy.

'Malfoy…' Flora tried to explain herself. 'I perfectly know that I shouldn't have played along at the café, but take it as a sign of momentary brain stop and please forget it.'

'Even though I love hearing 'please' from you,' he smirked eloquently' it's impossible.' He finished and took a sip of his drink. 'It was very Slytherin of you to use the situation for your advantage. Because ' he paused when he saw objection written on her features 'our little relationship can prove to be worth bearing to spend some time in my charming presence occasionally.'

'What do you mean by advantage?' she inquired curiously and leaned closer.

'Being seen around me would make you popular.' He said it as if it was a huge and wonderful prize.

'Not worth it.' Flora opposed. 'Sorry, but I won't do this. Perhaps another girl will be more beneficial to you, too, whatever reason stands behind your need for a new girlfriend...' she reasoned.

'You will do it. ' he hissed impatiently.

'Won't.' Flora declared and pushed her chair back.

'Perhaps you should consider the effect your… attitude will have on your father's business.' He suggested evilly.

'Even you can't be that huge of an a….' her last word was unheard, because Malfoy cleared his throat at the right moment.

'Apparently, I am.' He said almost proudly. 'As you may know, your father's most important business partner is _my_ father.' He emphasised the word.

Flora hesitated for a moment whether to stick her fork into his annoyingly elegant hands, but she rather decided not to.

'Why do you need _me_ anyway?' she inquired angrily instead.

'Our dear Pansy was planning to get bethrothed to me.' He answered with his lips twitching slightly.

Flora was not surprised at all. Everybody knew that Pansy was head over heels for him. She heard all the rumours about them from Millicent, starting from the beginning of their relationship to Pansy's constant fear of getting dumped by him. Despite his nasty blackmailing, Flora could not suppress a gloating smile. Malfoy's distress meant more to her than her own uncomfortable situation.

'Then why the fuss? Just marry her.' she offered tauntingly. 'Pansy's exactly your type of girl. Snotty, ugly, hateful and stupid. She's your perfect match.' She remarked hoping to make Malfoy angry.

Instead of getting angry, the boy seemed to be amused. He looked at her quizzically and asked

'How do you know she's my type?' in a silky voice.

There was something in his glance that made her uncomfortable and she shifted on her chair.

'You're obnoxious and hateful. Sounds like Pansy's male counterpart to me.' Flora said.

'Well, of course I'm not planning to continue my unfortunate relationship with her.' He declared. 'And _you_ will help me. You will act like a perfect little pureblood girlfriend and keep Parkinson away from me. I get severe headche from her whining.' He finished his monologue.

'Why me?' she wanted to know at least that much.

'Why not?' he asked back.

'Everybody knows we can't stand each other.' She tried to convince him.

'They will assume we just pretended.' He smirked, obviously finding her attempt amusing.

Flora went silent for a while. She admitted to herself that she found Malfoy very good-looking, but since he really was good-looking, she knew her attraction had a very objective reason. She also knew well that it was her fault in the first place and that she had to pay the price of her previous nastiness, but she did not feel like pretending to like Malfoy in front of everybody for Merlin knows how long. Flora was sure that her parents would be more than supportive about the relationship. Her cousin – she was not that sure.

For a second she considered leaving and refusing his offer- if it could be called as one, but she quickly rejected that idea: she had to think about his threatening that concerned her father. She was not sure if the Malfoys had as much influent as Draco made it seem, but she could not risk it. She decided to agree to his devious plans and find a way out later, as soon as possible.

'Fine, you won. I'll do it.' She shared her decision with him.

Malfoy nodded smugly. After all, he got what he wanted pretty easily. She did not feel like talking after her approval, so she just kept quiet. In fact Flora was a bit ashamed for being convinced and used by him so easily, but she tried to calm herself by thinking she had no other options and that it could have been worse.

'We should get back to the castle. Everybody is staring and I don't want to be seen with you. Make sure next time you wear something acceptable.' Her new boyfriend's now indifferent voice scolded her after a short silence and the next moment she found herself on the street again, her hand held steadily by his colder one.

-.-

'He blackmailed you?' Millicent repeated her words excitedly. ' _And_ kissed your hand in front of the Common Room?' Millicent was hyperventillating.

Flora made sure again that noone was in the room.

'Yeah. He did.' She nodded then exhaustedly. Even though she did not feel like talking about it, she had to recite the happenings to her eager friend.

'Slytherin's beard! You're so lucky, Flora!' she exclaimed. 'To imagine that everybody saw as he kissed your hand!' Millicent was glowing from the fresh and quite valuable gossip.

'Have I mentioned he blacmailed me into this? Called me fat and was ashamed of my attire?' Flora asked wearily. Malfoy was the nastiest person she knew.

'At least he's _gorgeous._ I would change places with you anytime.' Millicent said in a dreaming voice. ' Imagine to be blackmailed into a girlfriend status by Pucey.' She added and Flora could not help but giggle at that.

Adrian Pucey was probably the most disgusting boy in the whole Slytherin House with his pimply face and well-known attraction to flobberworms.

'You know, I haven't thought about it that way, yet.' Flora smiled. 'In fact I should be thankful to Malfoy.' She shuddered at the thought of having to spend more than one second with Pucey.

'Well, you can't deny that it's actually quite romantic.' Millicent remarked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

'What do you mean?' Flora asked back nervously. Millicent annoyed her at times.

Millicent was taken aback by the edge of her voice.

'Well…first you really hated each other and now you're a …couple.' She said hesitantly.

Flora frowned. She was starting to get a serious headache.

'We aren't a couple. It's all false, don't you understand?!'she insisted grumpily.

She could not believe that even her best friend could believe so easily that she and Malfoy suddenly were an item.

'Ok, ok' Millicent shrugged. 'Oh, how I'd love to be in your place…' she repeated again with a sigh and plopped down on the bed carelessly, with her eyes closed. 'Just imagine his sexy lips…'she continued.

'Ew!' Flora claimed and hid her face in her hands. 'Don't be that gross! Those sexy lips were not long ago on Parkinson's slimy ones!' she broke her friend's idyllic vision and shook her head to get rid of the disturbing image of Pansy and her fake boyfriend sharing a moment.

'So you do admit his lips are sexy!' Millicent giggled and Flora turned pink.

'That doesn't mean anything.' she said defensively.

'Of …course… it… does'nt.' Millicent managed to choke out between fits of giggling. She was back to her cheesy daydreaming again- Flora did not mind, because they included only her _boyfriend_, not her.

For Millicent was obviously too busy laughing at her, Flora decided to have bath and wash her hair- she needed relaxation and having bath always cheered her up.

She never thought getting boyfriend would be _this_ stressful.

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:) Yes, there really is a button there that suggests you to tell all you rpositive thoughts :)! xoxoxo


	10. Chapter 10: Getting Caught By Snape

**AN: Hey Lovely, Dear Readers of Mine,  
Sorry to make you read my ranting first, but its been such a long, painfully long time ago that I wrote an AN for this story, that I simple have to bore you right now!  
To make you all forgive me, I tried to write something new, something different, something cool, something, that I havent tried my hand at yet!  
Im so excited about this chapter!!!  
I hope that you'll all be like : wow! when you finish reading;)  
Jeez, Im hyper. Well, no wonder its 3am here.^^  
I dedicate this chapter to everyone that has supported me, especially: ****andread08- thank you so much for bothering to mail me. it sorta woke me up;)  
**bookwormsofmassivproportions, charmedchica234, LittleMss16- I WILL try to give an advice, I just wanted to Post this chap. first:), Mai, Mirella, Cassie616, UntilNeverDawns, CRdragonPyro, Ash, Katie  
and really, everyone that has faved/alerted/read: **THANK YOU!  
**I gotta do some editing, so I hope it won't send you multiply alerts:S, if it does srry!  
**I hope you'll like this chapter and will keep reading! I will REALLY try to update asap:).  
Much much love and a bunch of virtual muffinz,  
SP**

* * *

**CHAPTER 10: Getting Caught By Snape, Really Lucky...**

_-in which the title speaks for itself this once and the Heroine does get caught by our favourite Potions Master-_

Avoiding death threats from fellow Slytherinas on a regular basis, sitting by Him at dinners (thus being glared at by all the females with the exception of Granger), socializing with His friends (Blaise was quite okay) and dutifully attending His Quidditch practices … being Draco Malfoy's official (and substantially fake) girlfriend was a rather tiring activity.

Not that Malfoy bothered her too much... apart from spending all her freetime with praising him, blushing when somebody mentioned his name and glaring back at unknown girls.  
Why would have she minded? After all, she just gave up her life.  
After two days, seeing Pansy's sour face was not that fun, either, she rather felt her presence disturbing. Well, she always considered Pansy disturbing, but since the other girl started looking at her with a certain murderous expression, Flora insisted on being with Crabbe or Blaise when Malfoy was not around.  
The only positive thing about Malfoy - and she was very surprised to find that out- was that he had nice friends.  
She was on good terms with Crabbe and Blaise proved to be helpful, too at times.  
Goyle did not speak much- she was not sure whether it was because he could not or he did not want to-, but he was efficient at keeping away Malfoy's crazy fan club.

Actually His Quidditch practices were her favourite part of their 'relationship': not that the game itself intrigued her, but because Malfoy _himself_ was entertaining.

'Incapable foul!' That day Malfoy yelled so loud that even she could hear it, down at the spectator's terrace.

He was having a _bad_ day, she could tell. The date of the much anticipated match against Gryffindor drew closer and closer, leaving him more and more nervous.

She knew she was being mean, but an evil grin crept on her face. Malfoy was quite amusing, once he got mad at somebody else. Pucey, the cause of the commotion looked horrified and the whole team obeyed immediately when Malfoy sentenced them to 100 extra laps on the field.

As usual, she could not enjoy the show for long at someone else's expense...

Malfoy just seemed to enjoy tormenting her so much more.

-.-

In fact, Flora never had anything against Harry Potter.

In fact, she could not cared less about him.

Apart from the incident with Peeves, she never thought about him too much and knew well that the hatred of the Slytherins towards the Boy Who Lived originated not only from Malfoy.  
Besides having had family members in really uncomfortable situations (for example in Azkaban) because of him, Potter was also extremely popular, everyone idolized him and that itself was simply sickening.  
Dumbledore, the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, the Hufflepuffs, all admired him: only the Slytherins seemed to have some sense and had reservations about the boy.

She felt that her House was right about its suspicions especially when she obediently tailed after Malfoy and Goyle – it became her habit to do so after their practices - and they somehow passed the Golden Trio in one of the corridors that led to the Slytherin Common Room.

Potter and Granger were minding their own business intelligently (Granger had her nose buried in a book as usual) and ignored the usual remarks from Malfoy intelligently.  
The least bright third of the trio, Weasley, unlike his friends, noticed her and used his opportunity well when she passed him to knock her over.

She landed with soft thud right on her backside. It hurt.

She never understood why people like Granger and Potter hang out with Weasly. She still could not understand what did Millicent find charming on him.  
Flora stared up unbelievingly at Ron Tough Bully Weasley, the secret crush of her best friend, who happened to knock her over intentionally, the very one, who quit smirking idiotically only after Granger's voice arrived clanging.

'_Ronald Bilius Weasley_!' she screeched. 'Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Apologize right now' she even tapped her feet.

If she had not known Granger did not believe in violence, Flora would have expected her to smash Weasley's head with her book.

Actually she would have expected Malfoy to smash Weasley's head (wasn't their relationship about making people believe they were together?- she asked herself), but apparently, His Majesty turned back only after hearing Granger's annoying scolding.

Potter was the first to act: he helped her up to her feet genlemanly.  
Flora made herself a mental note to remind herself later that Potter, in fact, was a decent guy – messy hair or not.

'Get your filthy hands off her, Potter.' Malfoy stepped in finally, drawing his wand.

'_Great timing, Knight in shining armor'_ she thought and stepped farther away from Potter.

On one hand, she did not want Malfoy to lose a chance at cursing him – she knew that would have improved his mood a lot. On the other hand, she did not want to be cursed accidentally. Not that she wanted to be cursed in any possible way.

Potter looked at Malfoy menacingly and Flora got the feeling that having them at the same corridor was not without any risks.

'Then perhaps you should take more care of your girlfriend, Malfoy.' Potter remarked coolly.

Flora could not help but agree with him. Not that she craved for Malfoy's attention, but the fact that Potter helped her instead of him – and there were witnesses, too – made it crystal clear for her that he did not care about her the slightest.

'She knows what real filth is since dating you' Weasley added from the side, right after Potter's remark.

'_Very manly, Weasel_.' She thought in herself, grimacing.  
So_ typical_.  
Red only had the courage to talk nonsense standing behind Potter's back.  
'Some _Gryffindor_, he is.'she mused.  
She did not see what Millicent liked in him: Weasley was not only poor and foolish, but his nose was ridiculously long, too.

'I doubt your parents could pay the bills at St. Mungo's, so you better shut up, Weasley.' Malfoy scoffed at the interfering redhead. Flora admitted that Malfoy was not the wittiest one when it came to dealing with the Golden Duo.

'You should be thankful I don't Crucio you right here.' He continued the scolding.

Flora had to roll her eyes at that. His threats were not too valid, either.

At least Granger had some sense, holding back her two friends.

Flora eyed her _beloved_ wearily.

'You touch her once again and you'll _cry_ for the Dark Lord to find you.' Malfoy looked at Potter seriously, before storming away, yanking Flora behind him.

'We'll see each other on the field.' Potter's last words echoed int he corridor.

Decent or not decent, Potter apparently wasn't a witty one, either. And his hair was messy, too.  
'All men are the same' Flora thought, trying to keep up with her furious other half.

-.-

'Did you enjoy when he touched you?' he hissed coldly, forcing Flora against the stone wall right after Goyle left.

'Are you jealous by any chance?' she mocked him as playfully as she could in that situation.

'I asked something, Prince.' He stepped closer, his face extremely tense. 'In your shoes I would hurry with the answer.'

Both Malfoy and the wall were cold, but at least the wall surely could not hurt her.  
Malfoy had never been like that in front of her, so the situation was quite new to her.  
For starters, she never noticed Malfoy was that strong. Her wrist was _burning_.  
Second, he was cold, he was snobby, he was mean, but she had never seen his raging side an she did not know it would scare her like that.

'Yes, of course it was a heavenly feeling when Potter helped me up. In fact I asked Weasley to help me fell just to get Potter helping me.' She smiled tauntingly. Sometimes Malfoy was so dense that it hurt.

Well, it did hurt when his grasp on her shoulder tightened.

'It hurts, you idiot, let me go!' she demanded voicing her opinion.

'You will regret severely, if you lie to me, Flora.' He said silently, obviously indifferent to her wishes. 'I would feel sorry if you did not understand me. You're my girlfriend and a Malfoy's girlfriend won't mix with mud. Especially not with Potter's lot.' His grip tightened again, almost making her cry.

'You seem to forget that I'm _not_ your girlfriend. Well, I'm your fake girlfriend. Temporary solution, let me say.' She pointed out and tried to step away, but his arm blocked her way.

'Fancying Potter isn't a good idea.' he remarked in a conversational tone ignoring her words, leaning so close that his lips nearly touched hers.

'Why? Cause you saw him first?' Flora whispered. Somehow the closeness of his lips made her feel strangely shy. 'I don't plan to mix with mud.' She added, trying to avoid his closeness without any success.

Moment by moment she felt less and less like making fun of him.

'I'm glad we got that clear.' His mouth twitched slightly, as if he had known that he intimidated and charmed her at the same time. 'Don't you have illusions, you're unimportant to me.' He leaned even closer, but Flora turned her head away just in time.

'If I'm that unimportant, now that everyone gets everything, you should let me go. I got plenty of homework to catch up on.' She said casually and really tried to think about her Potions homework that laid untouched in her bag.

'Well,' he whispered into her ear now softly, his breath warm against her neck 'why shouldn't I enjoy my girlfriend's presence for a little longer' He asked the rhetorical question, putting his hand on her waist possessively.

Malfoy's changing mood confused her. Thoughts of her Potions homework vanished completely.  
Half minute ago he had been violent and from his voice she clearly knew that he was smirking now.  
She was not intending to get her _first_ kiss from a maniac, smirking Malfoy. Or a smirkless Malfoy.  
Even though he was blonde, Malfoy did not have a role in her fairytale- like dreams. At all.

'Let. Me. Go.' Flora accentuated every word loudly, trying to push him away.

'Your wish is my command.' He said, doing the exact opposite of his words: he easily turned her head towards himself and for a long second just looked at her wordlessly.  
In Flora's case the wordless silence was a breathless silence, too, for she did not dare to breathe even.  
His eyes were a shade darker than usual, almost black and he seemed very serious.

After a few seconds passed from their staring match, somehow she ceased to feel that his grip on her right arm was painfully tight and that he was uncomfortably close.

His firm hold on her chin turned into a caress and when he finally leaned in to kiss her, she did not protest, just stood like a statue. A statue that closed her eyes, to be painfully honest.

'Mr. Malfoy, Miss Prince, I wouldn't have expected this from _you two_. Fiften points from Slytherin. ' The tormentingly familiar voice of Snape broke the silence of the corridor.

Flora did not know whether to be thankful or disappointed.

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